


3am

by honeythieving (orphan_account)



Category: Seven Psychopaths (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Billy isn't dead, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Marty is Billy's beacon, Not Actually Unrequited Love, References to Drugs, sort of bc it's pretty vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/honeythieving
Summary: Marty is drunk (big surprise) and Billy is just trying to be a good best friend.





	3am

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some smut, but I had to get the romantic (lmao where) shit out first, so here you go ladies and germs & all you other fucks

“Billy, is it you?” Marty whispered on the other end of the phone, followed by loud rustling noises.  
  
  
“Yeah, it’s me? It’s 3 in the damn morning, are you alright, Marty?”   
  
  
“Yeah,” Marty said in a slur, but louder this time and continued. “I’m just drunk off my fuckin’ ass and pretty lonely, I’m all out of milk so all I got’s this bowl of dry cereal and let me tell you right now Billy, dry cereal tastes like shite. And I can’t go anywhere to get any because as y’know I’m more drunk than a German lad in Russia and I’m all out of fuckin’ booze and I’mmeehg-” the last part got muffled and scratchy to the point that Billy had to move the phone away from his ear.   
  
  
“What, you’re what? Get some water and go back to sleep, you’re killing me,” he tried to sound annoyed, but truth was that getting Marty’s attention was great, no matter what time of the day it was. But he was already tired from nightmares due to one too many pills and yes - sure, he was going to do anything for his best friend - but did it have to be in the middle of the night? Marty really had to stop drinking.   
  
  
“I want cereal, Billy, I want cereal real fuckin’ bad,” Marty whimpered, nearly drunkenly cried and Billy’s heart was beating too loud to even question what was going on and his hands were shaking too. Fucking pills, man. Why fucking cereal. 

  
“I- that’s- I’ll- be right over,” he stuttered in return and he could hear a faint chuckle on the other end and a loud ‘thunk’, which he figured was the sound of Marty’s phone hitting the floor.  
  
  
Billy quickly got dressed, pulled on his leather jacket and his lucky hat, - the one with the very fluffy ears - and grabbed his keys to walk to his car. How the fuck was he gonna drive when his entire body was shaking this bad? He’d only taken a few more pills than usual to pass out more easily, but that had clearly been a bad fucking idea. “Marty, you still there?”   
  
  
He heard a faint grunt as he opened the car door and started up the engine. “I’m putting you on speaker, aight?”   
  
  
No response.   
  
  
Note to self: stop stating random shit Marty doesn’t care about, even when he’s drunk. Also, buy milk on the way   
  
  
-  
  
  
Billy let himself in with the spare key he’d made, not with Marty’s permission, but it was for emergency situations like these and therefore not a problem. Besides, his friend was going to be too hungover to remember any of this, so really it didn’t even matter. He was just doing his best to take care of him, as it was the least he could give him.   
  
  
The house was dark apart from a spotlight in the kitchen and a faint lamp in the living room and he switched on the ceiling light. He had to blink a few times to get used to the bright light.   
  
  
“Billeeeh,” Marty hollered from the couch in his slurred Irish accent that was always far thicker when he was really drunk. All Billy could see was his hand up in the air and the sound of it hitting back down on the pillows. The table beside him was full of bottles and cans and he really wasn’t sure just how much the man had been drinking, but it was sure as hell a lot and far too much.   
  
  
“We talked about this shit…” Billy whispered to himself as he went over to the kitchen to find the bowl Marty had left there to find that it wasn’t even cereal in the bowl, but rather it was cheese pops. Seeing that Marty wasn’t perfect was frankly rare but then again, the man was drunk off his socks, so it didn’t disprove his greatness, really.   
  
  
He took out the milk he’d bought on the way from a far too thin plastic bag and replaced the cheese pops with some actual cereal before bringing it over and noting to bring the pops with him on the way home.   
  
  
“God, man I owe you my fuckin’ life,” Marty mumbled as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and quickly chowed down on what seemed like the only meal the man had gotten in weeks.   
  
  
“Thought we had a deal that you weren’t gonna drink no more,” Billy tried, though he partly understood why he did. See, Marty was always too smart for his own good, too many ideas in that head of his, and so sometimes he had to drown that out. But seeing his friend waste his talent away in alcoholism was not exactly a dignified road and not one he’d let him keep going down. That was his duty as his best friend.   
  
  
“There was never any deal,” he answered with a shake of his head, his mouth still full of food.   
  
  
“There should be, I don’t wanna be woken in the middle of the night because you’re this damn drunk.”   
  
  
Marty just shrugged, put the empty bowl on the table and laid back down on the couch, shoving his feet into Billy’s lap and an arm behind his head. “I’m just glad ya came.”   
  
  
He kept quiet in return, his heart continously skipping a beat and he wasn’t quite fucking sure what was going on, other than the fact that he could possibly have overdosed. He stared right ahead, trying to keep his head up and his sight from getting blurry. His eyes kept fixed on his own shirt that Marty had borrowed months ago and yet never given back, although he’d seen Marty in it plenty of times after. Just laying there, over the armrest of his chair. He wanted to comment on it, but his throat was too dry and the room seemed to be swaying.   
  
  
He turned his head to look over at Marty, whom he assumed was asleep, but all he found was a pair of eyes staring right back at him.   
  
  
He wanted to ask him why, but no words came. And shortly after, the other man’s eyelids got heavy and he appeared to be asleep.   
  
  
Chance lost.   
  
  
Billy carefully lifted his feet off to wriggle away and get on his way back home since Marty didn’t need him for anything else. He patted his leg and the man groaned in return.   
  
  
“Mmm... just so fuckin’ in love withcha, man,” Marty said and then rolled his head to his right and the rest of his body followed, to then curl up and pass out cold.   
  
  
Billy swore his heart stood still. Completely still.   
  
  
“What, you’re what? Marty? Don’t just fall asleep on me, man. For shit’s sake, you can’t just say that shit and sleep like nothing happened, it’s like when you call Kaya a bitch and you just forget it like it’s nothing and…” He trailed off as he realized Marty was actually asleep this time and starting to snore too.   
  
  
“You say the nastiest shit when you’re drunk, man.”   
  
  
He left and forgot all about the cheese pops.   
  
  
  
  
  
\-   
  
  
  
  
  
2 Missed Call(s)   
1 New Voice Message   
  
  
“Hey man, I just wanted to call ya and say uh, say thanks for what ya did last night. You sorta forgot to put the milk in the fridge so it’s standing here just mockin’ me, but it at least reminded me of something. Firstly, I need to stop fuckin’ drinkin’ so much. And ya know, what I said last night Billy,”   
  
  
Cold sweat.   
  
  
_We can forget that and pretend it never happened, sure, yeah. It’s no problem, Marty._   
  
  
“I’m pretty sure I meant whatever I said, unless I called ya a cock or somethin’. I feel like I told ya something important. If you could gimme a ring and let me know, I’ll invite ya over for some cereal or some shit,”   
  
  
He could hear Marty chuckle and some rustling of plastic. “By the way, how the fuck did you get in? Anyway, see ya.”

  
End of message.   
  
  
And there it was a-fucking-gain, the shaky hands, his heart beating too damn loud. The pills should be out of his system by now.   
  
  
_Give you a ring…_   
  
  
Well, yeah sure. He could do that. 


End file.
